


His Worst Nightmare

by elumish



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Episode: s08e16 Reckoning (1), F/M, Friendship, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-05
Updated: 2015-04-05
Packaged: 2018-03-21 08:45:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3685824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elumish/pseuds/elumish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He didn’t want to think about how compromised his judgment was.</p>
            </blockquote>





	His Worst Nightmare

Occasionally, Jack hated his job. Giving orders, sitting behind a desk, it was torture. Sending people out to die, it was worse.

Yes, Carter, go face the Replicators with a little gray alien who can’t even hold a gun. Yes, Teal’c, go on a suicide mission to recapture some bizarre religious monument. Yes, Daniel, go get yourself captured. Again.

Wasn’t he supposed to be the one getting into trouble and making people worry?

This was why, when Carter was beamed stumbling back into his office to be the bearer of bad news, he was glad. At least she wasn’t on Thor’s ship as it was being taken over by Replicators. At least, even if they lost one of the greatest allies to Earth, they didn’t lose Carter.

Wow, he didn’t want to think about how compromised his judgment was. Still pining over the woman with a fiancé, the woman under his chain of command, the woman worth more than all of the rest of the combined.

But that wasn’t even what bothered him most that day. Not Carter, not Teal’c, not Daniel being God knew where with God knew what being done to him.

No, it was the fact that he was going to have to look Ba’al in the face. Again. 

  

Which was why he was putting it off as long as he could. He was a good liar—he had all of his excuses planned out to pithy one-line quips that had just enough truth that nobody would question them—but he didn’t think he would be able to hide the look on his face if he went out now.

Ba’al was literally his worst nightmare, in the way Iraq had been all those years ago, except in Iraq they hadn’t killed him, hadn’t brought him back, hadn’t had Daniel watching over and over and _not doing anything._

And he wasn’t still angry at Daniel about that. Truly, he wasn’t. It was just sometimes difficult to remember that.

“Sir?”

Jack looked up from the piece of paper he had been staring sightlessly at for the past who-knew-how-long. “Yes?”

Carter shifted slightly on her feet, and he got the impression she was in there because nobody else wanted to be. “Ba’al is still waiting.”

“I know that, Carter.” He couldn’t forget it, couldn’t get it out of his head. Ba’al’s smarmy little face and his absurd clothing and that goddamn knife.

She nodded. “Yes, sir. I can talk to him if you want, sir.”

Giving him an out, like the good officer—good friend—that she was. But for a second he couldn’t breathe at the thought of Carter in front of Ba’al, even hologram Ba’al, even though she was undoubtedly smart enough and strong enough to kick Ba’al’s ass without needing anyone’s help. And then he stood and pasted a smile on his face. “Thanks, Carter, but I’d better go save Walter from trying to make small talk.”

“Yes, sir.”

And then he went to face his worst nightmare with a smile on his face and too many years of not enough therapy to know when to save himself.


End file.
